Chapter 30: Exam Preparation

After Snape left, the three continued toward the tower, hearts still pounding. At first none spoke, until Ron broke the silence: “Do you remember, Harry? Last time Neville said Snape and Quirrell were teaming up to steal the Philosopher’s Stone—it looks like it’s true.”

“I just don’t get why he’d want to steal it,” Harry said. “And I don’t understand why the two of them seem so close.”

“Maybe for money,” Zhang Qiu chimed in. “Neither shampoo nor hair growth tonic is cheap.”

Harry and Ron couldn’t help laughing, but dared not make a sound—the invisibility cloak became a chaotic mess.

“Don’t worry—Dumbledore already knows. Last time, Neville asked Hagrid to notify him,” Harry said, suppressing his laughter. “Maybe he’s allowing it. Maybe he’ll step in at the last moment. Either way, we don’t need to worry.”

In a relaxed, peaceful mood, the three reached the tower’s top. They set down the boxes, removed their cloaks, and sat cross-legged on the floor, ready to rest.

“By the way, who’s coming to pick up Pei Xu tonight?” Ron asked.

“Your humble servant, Lu Jianxing, pays homage to the Immortal,” came a deep male voice speaking a foreign tongue, startling Harry and Ron.

“Oh, you’ve arrived already,” Zhang Qiu said in English. “Let me introduce you—this is Harry, this is Ron. They’re both close friends of mine.”

“Greetings, gentlemen,” Lu Jianxing’s accent was as strange as last night’s.

“Harry, Ron,” Zhang Qiu said, winking at Harry. “These are Aurors sent by the embassy to assist us. This is Lu Jianxing, Shen Lian, and Jin Yichuan—all very enthusiastic and capable wizards.”

“Cool,” Ron said, eyeing their sleek black robes. “I’m going to be an Auror too.”

“Then we’ll take Pei Xu with us now,” Lu Jianxing said. “Keep an eye on the newspapers.”

“Keep an eye on the newspapers? What does that mean?” Ron asked as the three flew off on brooms. “Is that some kind of Tianchao proverb?”

“It means exactly what it says,” Zhang Qiu replied. “They might have taken Pei Xu to St. Mungo’s.”

The next day, they specifically found a copy of the Daily Prophet—and there, sure enough, was a modest news item.

“Recently, enforcement officers at the Scottish border cracked a smuggling case, arresting twelve suspects including ringleader William Li. They seized 2,333 gold Galleons and a large quantity of illegal Muggle artifacts and magical creatures.”

“Investigators also discovered that one of the creatures was transformed from a young illegal Animagus, who identified himself as ‘Pei Xu.’ The relevant authorities have transferred the boy to St. Mungo’s Hospital, and we are actively contacting his parents. Informants are welcome to provide information.”

The accompanying photo showed Pei Xu sitting scowling on a hospital bed.

Under Ron’s confused gaze, Zhang Qiu explained: “I requested this—I wanted to conceal Pei Xu’s true origins.”

“Alright, but honestly, Pei Xu was sold to Hagrid by smugglers anyway,” Ron said, relieved. “He doesn’t look happy, but at least he’s safe.”

“I left a letter under the cushion,” Harry said. “He’ll understand.”

“Hey, now that Pei Xu’s sorted, how about some chess tonight?” Ron said. “I haven’t played in ages.”

“I need to review for finals,” Harry said. “Dumbledore reminded me last time—there isn’t much time left this term.”

“Harry, those exams are still years away.”

“Five weeks, not years,” Harry corrected. “I should’ve started reviewing three weeks ago, but I got distracted by all this nonsense.”

“Come on, you already know all this stuff,” Ron said, looking at the two who constantly haunted the library. “What’s there to review?”

“Ron, I suggest you review properly too—if you fail a class, you might not advance to second year,” Harry said wearily. “And haven’t you noticed? Professors are already assigning repetitive homework.”

“Fine, but I prefer memorizing in the dorm,” Ron stubbornly held his ground against the library.

Harry made a study plan in the library, planning to break down the History of Magic syllabus and evenly distribute the memorization over several days. But Zhang Qiu told him Professor Binns was unimaginative, and gave him her first-year textbook, saying it contained the exam topics she’d gathered from older students.

Harry realized the torturous “1637 Werewolf Control Act” and “The Elf Rebellion: Origins and Aftermath” had never been tested—apparently, Binns didn’t consider them suitable for exams.

History of Magic had always been one of his most frustrating subjects, but now, with Zhang Qiu’s exam focus, everything became simple. Harry revised his plan and found that with History of Magic streamlined, he had far more time.

Following Zhang Qiu’s advice, Harry decided to prioritize the four practical courses, since he needed to schedule practice time.

First-year spells were numerous, but Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts were separate exams. In Charms, they’d learned the Levitation Charm, Unlocking Charm, Water-Making Charm, Summoning Charm, Separation Charm, Cleaning Charm, Leg-Locker Curse, Petrification Charm, Teeth-Growing Spell, and Tap-Dance. Harry guessed the simplest—Levitation and Water-Making—might not be tested, and from an educational standpoint, the school wouldn’t require mastery of Teeth-Growing or Unlocking. As for Cleaning and Petrification, allowing multiple students to cast them repeatedly would make the exam hall hard to arrange. Harry suspected the most likely exams were Separation, Leg-Locker, Summoning, and Tap-Dance. Zhang Qiu told him last year’s exam had been Summoning, so Harry decided to focus his practice on the less familiar Leg-Locker and Tap-Dance.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was trickier. Though Harry had mastered all four spells taught in class, who knew what bizarre questions Quirrell might ask? He could only organize the textbook material and ensure he didn’t misunderstand anything mentioned in it.

Transfiguration was said to be highly flexible—anything demonstrated in class could be tested. This worried Harry, as his Transfiguration skills were only average. But Zhang Qiu told him that Transfiguration grades weren’t based solely on practical performance; after the theory portion, the professor would award or deduct points based on practical execution, to prevent students with poor talent from failing outright. Harry felt confident—he’d always completed his theory assignments thoroughly, and found them easy.

Potions also required on-site preparation. Harry had memorized every potion from this term, but, cautiously, he planned to practice the three moderately difficult ones: Weed-Whacking Potion, Sleeping Draught, and Swelling Solution.

Next came Herbology and Astronomy. Herbology required memorizing many details, but Harry had already retained most of them; a few quick reviews and gap-filling would suffice—no time-consuming task.

As for Astronomy, Zhang Qiu told Harry it wasn’t examined at all—students only needed to submit an essay for the final assignment, and the professor would grade it accordingly. The Astronomy professor was famously lenient.

After organizing his study plan, Harry glanced at his schedule and realized he’d forgotten Flying. But Flying was too easy for Harry—he truly didn’t need to review.

When Harry finished organizing his Transfiguration theory that night and returned to the dorm, he found Ron wasn’t studying—he was playing Wizard’s Chess with Neville.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said cheerfully. “Remember what Quirrell was saying last night?”

“Huh?” Harry paused. “He threatened Snape to give him the Living Hell Potion—he must be trying to get under the trapdoor. Oh right—he said he wanted to find a winning strategy for Wizard’s Chess.”

“Exactly,” Neville nodded gravely. “Come on, let’s keep trying. If there’s Wizard’s Chess, I must beat Quirrell too.”

Harry watched the two resume their chess battle, sighed helplessly, then lay down, preparing to read a bit of leisurely fiction before sleep.

Harry reached for his bedside table and suddenly realized—besides the Tales of Beedle the Bard Ron had given him, every other book was Soviet fiction. A quick memory confirmed: all had been gifts from Professor Yuri.

“So Yanayev’s little maneuver was sending someone to approach me in advance,” Harry thought. “But he openly applied as a tutor, and his lessons weren’t bad.”

“He merely spread an idea—the decision was mine. That’s nothing,” Harry didn’t mind his tutor’s hidden agenda. “Besides, I’m grateful to Professor Yuri. Without him, I wouldn’t have so clearly understood the real problems in the magical world.”

“The bloodline conflict is, at its core, a struggle between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat. Muggle-born wizards arrive in this world alone; every Galleon of the old pure-blood families is stained with blood. They raised Voldemort—a monster—to seize power, yet no one has ever truly united Muggle-born wizards into a single force.”

“Peverell, Weasley, Longbottom,” Harry suddenly realized—he and his friends were all pure-blood wizards. “I need to talk more with Hermione. She’s the true proletariat.”

Harry opened the book he’d barely read—How the Steel Was Tempered—and carefully absorbed its story. His thoughts drifted again to the trapdoor on the third floor.

“Turning stone into gold isn’t impressive. A life of mediocrity remains mediocre, no matter how long it lasts. But Marx’s theory can forge cowards into warriors as unyielding as steel—that’s the true meaning of the sage.”